He Really Did Like Her
by Nekouyoku
Summary: "So, with Worth, there may not be a Happily Ever After. But that would be boring, anyways."


Disclaimer: Not Mine (other than the story, of course.)

* * *

He didn't bother knocking anymore. The door was open, so he went in. He wouldn't have done that anywhere else, as much for politeness as for certain...restrictions he was under, but here he was showing as much courtesy, quite possibly more, as he would have gotten in return, and he was, apparently...welcome, as strange as it was to put it that way.  
"Hey there, Fagula. Dinner time already?"  
He didn't have to look to know that Worth had that sneer on his face-so he didn't, he just walked to the fridge, scowling as usual-it amused the doctor to no end how much Conrad relied on him. It was maddeningly difficult to contact Hanna, so Worth was routinely the only person that he could go to to get any information about this whole...vampire thing. It was like being a teenager again. He had no idea what was happening to him, or how to deal with it. Except this time the only person he could ask loved to see him squirming in misery.  
He grabbed a blood bag from the fridge, trying to ignore its other contents. There was the issue of food, too. Without Worth, it was likely he'd be dead. Or, well...deader. And not only had he provided the blood bags, which seemed to do little more than keep Conrad moving, after seeing how badly the vampire was fairing, he'd offered ('More like taken advantage of how weak I was...!'), well...something else.  
"Yer eatin' _that_ stuff again?"  
Conrad turned to face him, and tried to look indifferent, even though he couldn't help but glance at the bite marks on his neck before looking him in the eye-god, after the real thing, the bagged stuff was almost unbearable.

"I can't stay," was all he offered in explanation.

"Yeah? You in that much a hurry to go sit at home?"

"I have a _date_."

Oh god, why had he said that-

"With who, yer hand?"

"With a _girl_."

It was none of Worth's business, though. Conrad didn't care what he thought about his social life, and certainly didn't want the doctor (if he could even be called that) to know _anything_ about _anyone_ he'd planned on dating, because who knows what that could cause. So he certainly was _not_, in any way, waiting with bated breath (well, he hadn't been breathing recently, for one) for Worth's reaction.

An eyebrow rose.

Worth sat back in his chair, the fur on his collar shifting up. Conrad got the brief impression of a bird puffing out its feathers.

Then Worth was up, and close, and grabbing the bag of blood and throwing it behind him, and now Conrad was pressed against the wall, and being kissed and god, it hurt-it hurt just enough.

Worth tugged his collar down, exposing more marks on his neck, though most were (thankfully) healed, and barely visible.

"Eat."

He didn't have to be told twice.

* * *

He really did like her. She wasn't what he'd call beautiful, but she was very cute. She'd liked his art, he'd bought her coffee...she was easy to talk to, and he enjoyed going out to eat with her, he didn't even mind holding hands, despite his usual insistence on personal space. But one night, their dinner was particularly good, and the mood was right, and Conrad wasn't stupid, he knew where this was going, so he did what any gentleman would do-he panicked, faked an important phone call, and insisted that yes, he was sorry, really, but he needed to go see-uh-his doctor, yes, right away, and he'd see her next week?  
(Later on, he'd try his best not to think about why that specific excuse was the first that came to mind.)  
It wasn't like he was just a blushing virgin, either. For one, he didn't have quite enough blood to blush most of the time, and for two, well, he and Worth had...they had...oh, god.  
He wasn't quite sure what had convinced him, because he tried to avoid specifically thinking about their first time, because that would lead to a thought something like '_My_ first time', and Conrad didn't really like the sound of that, thanks.  
Because, 'Between you and me', he'd always been part of the crowd that thought losing his virginity was going to be something special. He'd think about it, sometimes, when he was feeling particularly self-deprecating. It'd be to a beautiful girl, probably not _too_ beautiful, because he didn't consider himself particularly desirable, and they would have known each other for a few years, maybe, and dated for a decent amount of time, and he'd be a little awkward about it, yes, but she wouldn't mind-  
Instead, _instead_...it had been in a room three doors down in an alleyway, in the heat of the moment, to a man (_a __man_) who he'd hardly known for a month, he'd just _fed_ off of, and probably had enough diseases that Conrad would have gotten sick and died, if he hadn't already been dead.  
And the worst part (he told himself), was that he didn't protest to any of it. If he had, he had a strange sort of confidence that Worth would have stopped, teased him a little, and let him go off on his own merry way.  
(But, really, the absolute worst part of the matter was that they'd fallen asleep afterwards, and not more than a few hours later, Conrad was shoved onto the floor and told to get out, he didn't have permission to sleep here, and the last thing that Worth wanted to see in the morning was his ugly mug. Conrad just got dressed and left, thankful that it was still dark enough for him to be able to walk home. Of course, to Worth, sex was just a welcome distraction. There was nothing emotional attached to it. He probably didn't even remember the names of the majority of people that he screwed. Conrad understood that. He knew what Worth had meant-or, what he didn't mean-by it.  
That didn't stop him from choking back tears when he got home.  
That didn't stop him from taking his frustration out on Hanna, who showed up in the wrong place at the wrong time, and earning a few new bruises from the kid's overprotective (and rightly so) Zombie.  
Shit, what had he done with his life?)

* * *

He really did like her.  
He didn't mean to use her to make Worth jealous, or anything like that. Hell, if anyone had even suggested that, he'd have called them crazy and wondered why they even thought that would work.  
But, more and more, he found that he didn't harbor any romantic feelings for the girl. He'd really just needed a friend, after all. And she was excellent at that, but his heart-in some sick, sick twist of fate-had ended up somewhere else.  
And he'd hated himself for it.

* * *

He squinted his eyes open.  
God, it felt like his eyelids weighed 50 pounds. He must have not fallen asleep too long ago...  
He looked to his right, where Worth was laying on his back, hands folded over his stomach, sleeping soundly. Conrad took a moment to consider what a strange position it was to sleep in, in an attempt to wake his mind up a little more.  
It was still dark.  
He rolled over, and leaned over the bed to dig through the pockets of his discarded pants, managing to pull out his phone. 3:39. Good, that was more than enough time to walk back home. As reluctant as he was to get up at all, he'd rather that than be kicked out.  
He set his phone down, and rolled back over to-  
"H-holy _shit_...!"  
See Worth, looming over him, grinning again.  
"Heh...goin' somewhere, Connie?"  
"Jesus _Christ_ don't _do_ that to me...!"  
"Sorry Girlie, couldn't have ya' leavin' on me."  
Conrad frowned, and scooted away from him slightly.  
"Why, do you want to kick me out yourself that badly?"  
"Nah...I figgure we've been doin' this long enough that you get some special pri'lages."  
He stared up at him. And then found himself laughing, though somewhat unsteadily.  
"You...you're just jealous of her, aren't you...!" Conrad said, fully expecting Worth to laugh in his face for suggesting it.  
Instead, he shrugged, laid back down, and said, "I might be."  
Conrad stared at him.  
Worth yawned.  
There was a moment of silence, that Conrad felt was rather tense, but apparently Worth didn't share that feeling.  
"C'mere, Connie, I know how cold you vampey types get at night," he said, holding his arm out for him.  
And, well, Conrad was cold. And that was, of course, the only reason that he inched over and made himself comfortable at Worth's side, laying his head on his shoulder. And it was only so pleasing because of Worth's twinge of discomfort, and the fact that he hadn't had a comfortable night's (well, day's) sleep since he'd...changed.  
But, it was definitely nice.

* * *

And waking up next to him, that was nice, too.

* * *

Accidentally knocking over something too early and getting bitched at for waking him up wasn't too great.

* * *

And around the time Worth tried to stuff him into Lamont's trunk for a ride home, he was in a foul mood again.

* * *

So, with Worth, there may not be a Happily Ever After.  
But that would be boring, anyways.


End file.
